The End of All Days
by Ardens Cinis
Summary: The world is truly coming to an end. Arkham Asylum has crumbled, humankind is destroying itself, and it seems as if the Justice League is slowly fading into obscurity. Indeed, it is, which gives them no choice but to start to New Young Justice initiative. Even with the threat of sudden and random attacks by the world's worst villains... there is no turning back. (SYOC CLOSED.)
1. Prologue: The Arkham Escape

**A** rkham Asylum was no better than it was before, even if it was under "new management" by a new warden. The entire asylum may have been retrofitted and remodeled, but the prisoners within the walls remained the same. Criminals, murderers, even those captured by Batman himself were treated like animals, caged and shackled 24/7.

The Asylum was a nightmarish hell.

"400 volts aren't enough," Dr. Dresdner, the lead scientist, spoke to his assistant, "The subject's brain has more nerves than the average Human's brain. 600 to 900 volts should be enough to affect the frontal and temporal lobes. Increase the voltage."

Dr. Dresdner looked down at his restrained subject, and the subject's acid yellow orbs looked dead at Dr. Dresdner. After almost fifteen total escape attempts, the Arkham Security team managed to drag Waylon back to his cell, even if it meant losing their limbs. Yes, _that_ Waylon Jones. **Killer Croc.**

"You sure are quiet today. Finally becoming human again, hm?" said Dr. Dresdner, readying the paddles, "Who knows, maybe the system with shorten your prison sentence. They might send you to live on some deserted island. I doubt it. Even for a thing such as yourself, you'll never be able to live like us."

"...I'm no **alien** ," growled Croc, nostrils flaring, "I'll be out of here real soon, you'll see... Your family will have to attend a closed-casket funeral after I'm done with you."

"Typical beast. You never learn, _Krokodil_ ," Dr. Dresdner couldn't help but to chuckle, "If I were you, I would bite down on the mouthpiece, Mr. Jones."

Croc spat it out, the mouthpiece clattering on the concrete floor. Gripping the restraints, he watched as the paddles grew closer to his head, already feeling the electricity against his leather skin. The paddles were finally pressed against the sides of Croc's skull, 900 volts of pure electricity surging through his body. Not once did he scream, but he held his breath, trying to stop himself from roaring out in pain.

 **""""""""""**

Throughout the asylum, lights flickered on and off, the security systems nearly failing all together. Inmates in the Maximum Security Sector were a bit too calm, keeping quiet, as if they were waiting for something to happen.

The tenth cell was bigger than the others, an electrified glass wall keeping the large inmate in, and keeping others out. This creature had fallen to both the Justice League and Green Lantern Corps, his weaknesses had been discovered by Superman.

Being inside a Red Dwarf sun nearly **destroyed** him.

A chained, weakened Doomsday sniffed the air, a growl forming in his throat. . If it wasn't for his weak energy levels, he would have been in Metropolis by now. If he was able to kill Superman once, he could do it again and again. He began to struggle, the magnesium-alloy collar cutting into his skin.

"Stop moving, freak!" A guard screamed at Doomsday, rifle aimed at his chest, "Keep it quiet!"

Doomsday, being the rage-driven mutant he was, continued to thrash and tug at the chains that bound him. Even after the continuous threats and orders from the guard, Doomsday's attempts to free himself went uninterrupted, his once thought to be indestructible body starting to bleed.

 _ **"Huuuman..."**_ He groaned, vocal cords just warming up, **_"...Kill... huuuman...!"_**

The guard was alarmed by this, radioing the current situation in.

"Control, this is Macintosh. Inmate X9DD is active. I repeat, inmate X9DD is active. Should we get Superman down here?" Macintosh questioned.

 _"Copy that, Macintosh. Superman is AWOL. We'll get Batman here ASAP, just stay where you are for the time being,"_ control replied.

"Over and out," said Macintosh, taking his hand off the radio. He watched Doomsday closely, doubting that he would be able to break out the cell. It _was_ made of the strongest materials in the known solar system, so escaping would be absolutely impossible.

Doomsday sat back in the shadows of his cell, waiting for the opportunity to make his escape.

 **""""""""""**

By the time the power was restored to full power, Croc was taken back to his cell, brain overloaded with electricity. Halfway to the Maximum Security Sector, he was hunched over the floor, throwing up his lunch and dinner. The guards thought he was trying to earn a trip to the infirmary, so they were reluctant at first, paying no attention to Croc's "trick." Instead of following the guards orders, he didn't get back up. His stomach was in knots, his eyes bulged out of his head, and he swore that his heart skipped a few beats.

"You okay, K.C?" One veteran guard, Jonah, asked the inmate, "C'mon, man. Before the Warden gets down here."

Croc had gotten used to hearing that New Jersey accent, but he never considered Jonah to be a friend. "I'm... fine," replied Croc, voice hoarse, "I don't need your help."

"I'm just tryin' to be friendly here. Trust me, Croc," Jonah patted him on the back, slipping a key into Croc's collar. The inmate's eyes widened as he felt the collar loosen around his neck, blood rushing to his head within a mere second. He never expected Jonah to help him, and Jonah was putting both his job and life on the line.

Croc didn't care. He was going to get out while he still could.

He swung his fist at the three other guards, the horrific sounds of breaking bones and screams reverberating throughout the hallway. Alarms blared, but the security system failed to kick in. Instead, every single cell in Maximum Security opened.

Including Doomsday's.

"The sewer system is your only way out of here! Once you're outside the perimeter, look for the red truck! The team will help you from there on out!" shouted Jonah, "You've got at least 3 hours to get off the grid, and do it before the Bat is active!"

Jonah set his semi-automatic rifle on the ground, and threw his pistol away.

"You gotta make this look like an attack. Hit me, **_Waylon_**."

The guard braced for impact as Croc raised his arm. Croc shut his eyes as he slashed Jonah's chest, having no choice but to listen to the human's screams of terror. Unlike the others he had just completely mutilated, Croc left Jonah with a few flesh wounds, nothing serious. At least hearing his own _real name_ brought a bit of humanity back to him.

Croc made a run for it, the all-to-familiar scent of the sewers hitting his nostrils. As he turned the corner, bullets were fired at him like a never-ending storm. His leather skin deflected most of them, but some managed to find their way into his skin. Croc lunged for the security personnel, his teeth digging into what felt like bullet proof armor... and human skin. He tore them apart, crushing bones and ripping limbs from bodies. This only paved the way for other inmates to make their escape, but Croc never realized that another monster was on the same block.

Doomsday breathed down Croc's neck, towering over him by at least three more feet.

 _ **"...Slime... leather..."**_ Doomsday growled, wondering who, well, what Croc was, _**"...Freak..."**_

"Says the thing that killed Superman..." said Croc, balling his blood-covered fists, "Your a murderer just like me. Kill some people and get out of here. You're not following me..."

Doomsday snapped at Croc, baring his ivory-white teeth.

 _ **"...Meet... next time... Superman dead... by.. then..."**_ Doomsday's words were slurred, as if this was his first time speaking. It was indeed his first time speaking, and it would not be his last.

They went their separate ways. Doomsday began to set everything and everyone on fire, making his way towards the courtyard. Croc, however, entered the sewage system, slowly sinking into the dark, almost black, murky water.

And in an instant, he was gone, along with the world's most dangerous criminals and villains. Scarecrow, Mammoth, Doomsday, Two-Face, the list went on and on.

They had all escaped.

 **""""""""""**

 _"This is Gotham City News with **BREAKING NEWS**. I'm Thomas Johannsen reporting tonight. A massive massacre and breakout has occurred 2 hours ago at Arkham Asylum, and now many are wondering why Doomsday, the same extraterrestrial being that killed Superman, was put in the asylum in the first place! Well known criminals such as the Joker, Killer Croc, and Harley Quinn are on the list of escaped convicts, along with a dozen other Maximum Security inmates. Over 80+ security personnel have been injured or killed, and 90 others are currently missing._

 _Now, the big question I have to ask, where was the Justice League? If the alarms went off, then where was Superman? Wonder Woman could have easily been at Arkham with minutes! And Batman? Where was **he?** To be honest, I, other employees here in the GCN building, and millions of people are losing trust in the Justice League. Personally, I think the world was doing better off with the Young Justice team! But... this isn't my show, so voicing my opinions wouldn't do much good at all. We'll be back after this... commercial break."_

Clark sat in the bar, having to look over others just to watch the TV. Was this really his fault? For some reason, his powers weren't working like they used to. He knew some of the gangs began to use Kryptonite as weapons against him, he just never knew it would affect him like this. For now, he was just the reporter for the Daily Planet.

"Another round, buddy?" the bartender asked, "Y'look like your gonna need it. S'gonna be a long night for everyone."

"No, I'm okay. Do you have a phone I can use?" Clark questioned.

"Yeah. Go back there," the bartender pointed at the phone, which was hung on the wall, "25 cents for a 10 minute call."

"Thank you," said Clark, grabbing his bag and camera. He pushed past people, tripped over shoes, and dropped his glasses quite a few times. But, he managed to get to the phone, which was far enough from the crowd of people at the bar. Inserting a quarter in the slot, Clark dialed a number, and waited for someone to pick up.

 _"This is the Stewart residence, how can I help you?"_ the voice of a teen answered.

"Isaiah, I need to speak to John. This is very important," said Clark.

 _"This is about the "top secret" thing, isn't it, Clark? The thing I'm not supposed to know about, right?"_ Isaiah became curious.

"That was when you were little. You're 17 years old, so ask your father about it. And yes, this is about that "top secret" thing."

 _"Did you talk to the others about it? Or are you going wait until Bruce calms down about the Arkham incident?"_

"No, not yet," Clark sighed, "Doomsday probably knows where I am, and he'll come after me in a matter of days. If the world blames the Justice League for everything, then the world doesn't need us anymore. They need Young Justice."

"Right, like that's going to happen. I don't think my dad would ever hand the ring down to me, Clark. Not in a million years."

"Well, he'll have no choice but to hand it down to you. This world will be in a war, and... it just might go down the same path Krypton did. I don't want that to happen. You do know what this means, right?"

 _"...I'm afraid to even say it, let alone ask my dad."_

"The New Young Justice initiative has started, and I'm proud to say that we already have a new Green Lantern," said Clark, "Now, please, get your father on the phone."

Silence.

 _"I'm no Green Lantern, and you know that,"_ Isaiah lowered his voice, _"Give me a minute. I'll get him from upstairs."_

* * *

 **Author's Note:  
** ** _Hello, my name is Ardens Cinis. But, please, just call me Ardens. This is my first fanfic, AND an SYOC. I've lurked on fanfiction for quite a while now, but I only created my account let's say... two, three weeks ago? Hell, I don't keep track of time at all._**

 ** _Forgive me, I've gotten off track._**

 ** _The rules for this SYOC are pretty simple:_**

 **1) No Mary Sues/Gary Stus.  
2) This isn't a first come, first serve. I accept the best OCs, and once the SYOC is closed it is closed. No exceptions.  
3) Put 'There Are No Boundaries' at the top of your submission. That way I know you've read the rules.  
4) I am only accepting 9 OCs.  
5) Only one OC per person.**

 _ **I will upload the form on my profile soon. And quick reminder: updates might be random and slow. My Christmas Break is coming up, and I do have a hectic schedule ahead. So, do not panic if I don't update for weeks.**_

 _ **I'm not dead.**_

 _ **And also, please read-and -review. Constructive critism and praise is good, and it also helps with ny writing. But, you don't have to if you don't want to.**_

 _ **The choice is simply up to you.**_


	2. Chapter One: The Salazar Twins

**S** leeping under what seemed like a pile of logs, a homeless man slept behind a boat-shed, using the logs as a makeshift shelter. Strands of blond hair fell in front of his face, hiding his closed, almost bruised eyes. Dirt and grime covered his scraggly beard, as if it hadn't been trimmed in years. A torn and tattered sweatshirt barely kept him warm, green cargo pants were sewn in most places, and his shoeless feet were covered in frost.

Apparently, the one and only king of the sea had lost himself.

Arthur woke up to the sound of chirping birds, clouded eyes blinded by the sunlight. He covered his eyes, wincing in pain and annoyance. Honestly, if he knew his life above the water would be this... painful, he wouldn't have left the ocean. As drunk as he was, the pain slowly subsided with every day that went by. The logs that sheltered him rolled onto the ground, hitting the dirt with a soft thud. Arthur sat up, bloodshot eyes examining the area around him. How... did he get here again? The bottles of alcohol around him were self-explanatory, the strong scent of whiskey still in the air. Last night's dinner nearly came up Arthur's throat, but he kept it down, sending shivers down his spine.

"That is the last time..." He paused to cough, "...I ever eat raccoon meat."

The phone in his back pocket rang, Arthur's eardrums amplifying the muffled ringtone. Grumbling under his breath, he reached for the phone, swiftly swiping the screen. He put it to his right ear, clearing his phone before speaking.

"Curry speaking..." he spoke with a slurred voice, "Who... is th-this..?"

 _"Figured you'd be drunk. It's me,"_ said Clark, _"You were supposed to be in Gotham a day ago, Arthur. What happened?"_

"Whiskey. That's what happened," Arthur shook his head, "Everything still hurts... I can barely think anymore. Going to Gotham would bring back too many memories, Clark."

 _"That's why you're in Mónz, right? You've been looking for Aqualad, haven't you?"_ Clark 's voice was now lowered to a whisper, _"Arthur, Kaldur'ahm has been dead for years. Once you're dead, there's no coming back."_

Arthur felt a lump in his throat, but he held the tears back. "I... I know that. I've m-moved on already."

 _"Mónz is the home of the Salazar Twins. They're metahumans, Arthur. What's the point of traveling to their hometown?"_ said Clark, _"You're desperate. You want a new apprenti- excuse me, apprentices to train. I understand if you don't want to admit it."_

"That's preposterous! I never- I-I..." Arthur's voice trailed off, his head lowered, "...It's true. I've heard rumors about the twins, what they were able to do. All I want to do is talk with them, and that's all. At least let me do that."

 _"Arthur, how good are your negotiation skills?"_

"Wha-? Well, I'm no novice to negotiations. Especially the ones that get out of hand. Why do you ask?"

 _"The New Young Justice initiative has begun. After the Arkham incident, we need a new strategy."_

Arthur silently nodded. "The Salazar twins won't fall into the wrong hands, and that is a promise, Clark. What is their location?"

 _"Bay Street, the last house near the river stream. The rest of their information is classified, but I'll have to contact the Watchtower about attaining the files. Good luck, Arthur."_

 **CLICK** , and Clark hung up.

 **""""""""""**

It was no lie, the Salazar twins were troublemakers, and the entire town knew it. Deviants, tricksters, deceivers, everyone, including their parents, gave the twins all sorts of nicknames! The big problem: they happened to be _identical._ That was why the Justice League needed them.

Sitka, the oldest twin (by one minute, to be exact), showered in the school locker-room, water almost but barely scalding his skin. Just like his twin brother, Sitka's drenched, dark brown hair was short, always kept disheveled as usual. Mysterious hazel eyes seemed to look more like a dark green, and with some hints of yellow and amber. Tan skin glistened under the hot water, his body well-toned thanks to running laps around the campus.

The "faster-than-a-speeding-bullet" type of laps.

Zooming out of the shower, Sitka was dry and dressed in a matter of seconds. His shirt practically screamed "geek", a design of an X-Wing printed on the front. Beige pants were frayed and wrinkled, but that was what he preferred to wear most of the time. His white, ankle-high sneakers were a bit scuffed, and the soles weren't quite worn out... yet.

He combed his hair out, grabbed his backpack, and sped out the door.

At this rate, Sitka would beat the bus back home, and he wouldn't be late for the soccer game. The Salazar family was very serious about their sports, and soccer was just one of them. The Mónz Antlers were going against the Gotham City Defenders. The two teams loathed each other entirely, and for a whole list worth of reasons.

It was a rivalry that went back at least 28 years.

"Sorry! Coming through!" yelled Sitka, dodging cars and buses. Ah, the tourist rush hour. Even during the winter, people from different parts of Washington only came to Mónz for the snow. That and the giant totem poles.

A two-story log cabin was in Sitka's view. The Salazar household was an old home, 130 years worth of history within and outside the walls. Sitka and Ashkii were just the Seventh generation of the family, and the only metahumans as well. They had a difficult time fitting in, but it wasn't that hard.

Okay... maybe it was a _bit_ hard.

Sitka came to a screeching halt, stopping himself from crashing into the front stairs. He went through the front door, dropping his bag and taking off his shoes before heading upstairs. The entire house smelled like fish and salt-water, but the family had gotten used to it. With as many cats around the house, the fishy smell would linger for quite a while.

"Ash, I'm home!" Sitka shouted for his brother, Ashkii, "Yo, Ash! Did you hear me?"

He walked down the hallway, stopping at a poster-covered door. He pushed it open, the volume of a TV amplified by speakers. Ah, Ash couldn't stop playing video games, and the hack-and-slash games were his favorites. Portable consoles, collectors items, actions figures, most of them belonged to Ash.

The other half of the room was Sitka's. A replica of Red Hood's helmet was on his nightstand, pictures and magazine cutouts of Batman were taped to the navy-blue walls, all sorts of superhero/vigilante-affiliated merchandise was **everywhere**. Unlike his twin, who wanted to keep his powers a secret, Sitka wanted to become a superhero.

Super speed + a badass superhero name = Justice League material.

"How was your date with 'possible boyfriend #3'?" Sitka asked Ash, sitting back on the bunk bed, "I think you two would make a good couple."

"Didn't work out," said Ash, watching the TV, "He's not my type."

"Well, I doubt you're gonna find another metahuman around here, Ash. We're the only cool ones in town!" said Sitka, a smile on his face, "I heard Red Hood is in Star City today. I was gonna go get him to sign my helmet, but I have to do homework and-"

"Superman is cooler!" Ash interrupted, "Aliens are awesome, and he's better than Red Hood!"

Sitka was offended by the statement.

"Mom!" He yelled downstairs, "Ash is being mean again!" he joked.

"Sitka! Ash! Stop fighting, you two! We have a visitor!" their Mom shouted from the living room, "He wants to meet you!"

Ash and Sitka sighed. While Sitka made it to the living room within seconds, Ash could only walk down the stairs like any other normal person, socks slipping and sliding against the polished wooden stairs. It was a pain to half to keep up with his speedster of a brother, and an even bigger pain when it came to popularity. Either way, they were still brothers, they were **twins.** They had to force themselves to get along.

Ms. Salazar may have been a short woman, but that didn't mean she was easily frightened. Her brown, graying hair was always seen in a tight bun. Her skin was beginning to get wrinkled, her age finally catching up with her. She wore a loose-fitting dress, a thin jacket the only thing keeping her warm inside the cold house. Ms. Salazar was a modest woman, and ever since Mr. Salazar moved out, she gained some bits and pieces of freedom back. As the twins came downstairs, she sat in the living room, Arthur sitting in the chair across from her.

"Boys, this is Arthur Curry," she spoke, "I'm sure you'll recognize him."

The twins gasped in shock and awe, automatically recognizing one of their many idols.

"A-Aquaman..?" Sitka began to question his own sanity.

"No way... it... is it... are you really here right now or...?" Ash giggled nervously, accidentally letting out a snort only once.

"Yes, I'm really here. I'm not a hologram," said Arthur, "Sit down. We have a lot to discuss."

Sitka sat in his favorite recliner, and Ash sat next to Ms. Salazar.

"I'm sure you've heard of the Arkham incident by now. News these days travels fast," said Arthur, his arms crossed, "Before I begin, which one of you two is Ashkii?"

"I am!" the twins said in unison. Even though the real Ash only wore a sweatshirt and boxers, Arthur was unable to see a difference with the brothers.

"Just kidding. I'm Ashkii," said Ash, blinking a couple of times to adjust his contacts, "Everyone just calls me Ash."

"And I assume that you're Sitka?" Arthur diverted his attention to Sitka.

The teen nodded, slumping in the recliner. "I can outrun a bullet, and my brother can... do some weird stu-."

"Shapeshifting," Ash spoke up, "I can't shapeshift unless physical contact is made. All I need to do is hit someone, and I can shift into that one person. But when I turn into someone else, I'm limited to that one person. Shifting into two people puts too much of a strain on my mind."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "So, we have a speedster and a shapeshifter, eh? Very interesting. Are you two considering to join the Justice League?"

"Absolutely not! I don't want my only children fighting in a war!" Ms. Salazar answered for her sons, "Roman Sionis came after us once, and I don't want it to happen again! Do you know what will happen if he discovers what my kids are able to do?! He'll take them away from me! Just because he lives in Gotham, doesn't mean he can't send his goons here!"

"Ma'am, please calm down! I don't think yelling and screaming will solve anything right now," Arthur spoke with a calm voice, "I'm not here to recruit for the Justice League, but for the New Young Justice. I assure you, the team's only task it to help those in need, not go after high-risk criminals such as Sionis. Batman will handle that."

Ms. Salazar cursed under her breath, wanting to make Arthur's eardrums bust with her angered-fueled screams. "Sitka and Ashkii are too young to fight," she argued, "Not even at their age."

"19 is a good age to join, and they _should_ be in college by now..." Arthur chuckled, "With the abilities they have, I think they can stay out of harm's way. Don't you think so, too?"

"I-I can't... I don't want them to leave me yet," Ms. Salazar's once ear-splitting voice was barely audible, "They're too y-young."

"Nobody is too young to fight in this era. It's war," said Arthur, "Ms. Salazar, we need your sons. They can make this world better for everyone."

Glancing back at her children, Ms. Salazar then looked back at Arthur.

"Next time I see them, I don't want it to be in a funeral home," she paused, wiping a tear from her face, "Just bring them home safe."

"I understand how scared you are, but I promise to keep them safe," Arthur promised, "Can I talk to Sitka and Ashkii alone? This will only take a minute."

Silently nodding, Ms. Salazar got up from her seat, hands shaking out of fear as she went into the kitchen. Arthur's whole attitude changed, the room's atmosphere changing from tense to calm.

"Sitka, Ashkii," he said, "We have a lot to talk about."

* * *

 **Author's Note:  
 _Never have I ever stayed up for hours on the computer. Writing the first chapter wasn't that easy, let alone having to choose the OCs. So, to those who received a message about your OC being accepted, congratulations. To others who haven't received a message about the acceptance of your OC, it means one of two things. 1) your OC hasn't been accepted, of 2) I am still messaging people. _**

**_So please, don't grow impatient._**

 ** _The SYOC is officially closed. Like I said before, I won't make any exceptions. Closed means closed, ladies and gentleman. Thanks to everyone for reviewing/submitting OCs._**

 ** _Leaving a review is completely up to you, so don't worry about being pressured by me._**

 ** _The big question that should be on your mind: "Why is Ms. Salazar so afraid of Roman Sionis"? A past confrontation? An unsettled score? That is entirely up to you to figure it out. There are so many mysteries within the world of the Justice League, and the Gotham underground is a maze of danger._**

 ** _Expect the next chapter to be published within a week or so._**


	3. Chapter Two: Broken Bones and Bruises

**G** otham's underground was no better than the slums. As the homeless stuck to the alleyways, the criminals and mobsters built their empire in the sewers, the code "G.U." soon recognized by both the Police and Government. But, no matter how many times they tried to infiltrate the sewers, their top agents and criminal informants ended up **_dead._**

For Aidan, all he cared about was the Fight Club.

Left jab. Right hook. Right uppercut. Aidan beat his opponent to a pulp, cornering him in the left side of the small arena. People jeered and booed on one side, others cheered and whistled on the other. Betting money within the walls of the fight club was no joke, it was a life or death situation for most. Crime lords such as Oswald Cobblepot put $20,000 on some fighters, and Bull, one of his steroid-fueled henchmen, was always sent to break Aidan's neck.

At the moment, Bull was about to collapse, heavy body threatening to shake the entire ground. He made a few comebacks, hitting the shorter fighter with brute force. Aidan felt the air knocked out of his lungs, skin swelling uncomfortably against his bruised ribs. He spat out a glob of blood, teeth covered in the crimson fluid.

"Gonna knock your teeth out, boy!" screamed Bull, readying his right arm for an uppercut.

Aidan dodged the fatal blow, and landed a jab straight to Bull's head. The intimidating giant seemed dazed, but finally stumbled back and collapsed. The referee jumped in the arena, checking to confirm Bull's loss.

"...He's out..!" the ref shouted, motioning for someone to get Bull, "Your winner for tonight, ladies and gentlemen, is Thunder!"

He raised Aidan's right arm, the crowd erupting into cheers and applause. "Thunder" was Aidan's nickname, and a name to use in the fight club. If anyone found him among criminals and money-hungry thieves, it would be game over.

Now, what he really needed was an ice-pack.

 **""""""""""**

The peroxide Aidan poured onto his arm felt like fire, burning the poisons and bacteria within the wounds. With a shaky hand, he set the bottle on the counter top, hissing in pain as he wiped the blood away. He unwrapped the gauze from his hands, and the cold air hit his bruised knuckles after hours of fighting. Aidan wanted to shove his hands in water-filled sink, but there was a chance that the water was filled with parasites. Underground water was bad water.

Aidan looked at himself in the mirror, inspecting the cuts and bruises on his face. His skin was fair, slightly discolored from the heavy hits. While his one good eye was a light blue, the other eye had swelled up, blood seeping into the white sclera of the eyeball. His blond hair glistened with sweat, but the shortened sides looked like they were drenched with water.

If he showed up back in Metropolis the way he looked, Jefferson was going to kill him.

Painfully putting his blue and yellow shirt on, Aidan groaned in utter frustration when his muscles cramped up. Moving his arms now felt like a challenge, and it was going to be **hell** trying to walk. He left the belt around his jeans loosened, and the shoelaces of his Vans threatened to come undone. He carried his leather jacket as he went out the bathroom door, closing the door behind him.

The arena became active again, but screams of agony replaced the sound of fists hitting bones. Aidan decided to walk out while he could, not wanting to get himself into another fight.

"The winner of this match... by a gruesome and brutal K.O... is _**Killer Croc..!**_ " the referee announced, "Somebody get the mop! Poor Bull just got himself annihilated!"

Aidan knew this was a good time to leave.

Bull? He was dead already? As Aidan walked out the club, he couldn't help but to feel a little bad for his former opponent. Hell, he was surprised that the guy stepped back into the ring! And Killer Croc? He was out of Arkham already? It was a known fact that he had 23 years left on his sentence, and parole for Arkham inmates was a challenge. No way he could have gotten out that easily! Unfortunately, Aidan was unaware that the behemoth of a beast **broke out**.

Oh, if he only knew of the tragic incident at Arkham.

 **""""""""""**

"You've got a bruised lung, some swelling of the right eye, and a dislocated thumb. The lung and eye of yours will heal on their own, but I need to put that thumb back in its place," said the doctor, tapping at his clipboard, "What exactly did you do to get yourself here in the first place, if I may ask?"

"Boxing practice," Aidan lied, "Went up against the biggest guy in the building."

"Good. I'm reporting most of my patients activities to the authorities, due to the incident at Arkham. The Gotham Police will be by to ask you a few questions, well, depending on their response to your injuries. Now, hold your left arm out, please."

Aidan, silently nodding, did as he was told. He held his breath as the doctor took a hold of his thumb, and put it back into the socket.

"God dammit!" Aidan screamed, feeling the blood rush back to his thumb.

"Be lucky I wasn't required to re-break it, Mr. Raynor," said the doctor, "I will be right back. For now, just stay here."

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere," Aidan groaned, leaning back on the gurney.

The doctor walked out of the room, the sliding door closing behind him. As always, Aidan wanted to complain about the paper-thin hospital gown he wore, the coldness of the hospital, the quality of the food. It was all the same. He pulled the blanket over him, waiting for either the doctor or two Police officers to come to his room.

"We're looking for people involved in a recent fight. One that occurred in the Gotham 'Blackjack' District."

Aidan heard voices outside of the room, the crackling of a Police radio confirming his suspicions.

They knew he was at the fight club.

"Doctor, if you're withholding information from us, we can and **will** get a warrant," said one officer, "Where are they?"

"I'm sorry, officer, but patient information is confidential. Come back with a warrant, and then we'll talk," the doctor replied.

Footsteps resonated throughout the hall, the two GCP officers leaving the floor of the hospital. Aidan decided it was time to leave, painfully sucking in a breath of air as he reached for his clothes. Before putting his shirt on, he pulled the IV-drip cord out of his vein, wiping the blood away with a cotton ball. He hopped out of the room, still tying the laces of his shoes. With no police in sight, Aidan hurried down the hall, limping towards the elevator. The door had opened, two on-duty cops walking out.

But, Aidan was already gone.

Electrcity surged down the wiring and controls of the elevator, the power flickering for only a brief moment. On the floor that Aidan had left, the two officers jumped when the lights blew-out.

"Dispatch, we got a 10-10-Q at the Gotham Munincipal Hospital. Requesting backup immediately," Officer Johnson, a GCP Captain, called in the situation.

 _"Roger that, Captain,"_ dispatch replied, _"All units, we got a 10-10-Q; Unknown situation, possibly severe. Gotham Munincipal Hospital."_

Downstairs, on the first floor, blue sparks flew out from the elevator panel. In an instant, the sparks became Aidan, the hair on his neck electrified thanks to what he had done.

Electrokinesis wasn't exactly safe, but it was powerful. Aidan had been struck by lightning a while back, and luck had been on his side since then. With the lightning strike came he abilities, and Aidan was no longer considered human. As a Metahuman, the whole world around him was... different.

For some reason, humans hated metahumans, and metahumans hated humans.

 _ **KA-THUNK!**_

Out of nowhere, a boxing-glove arrow hit Aidan's jaw, blood spurting out from his mouth. He collapsed on his side, letting out a yelp when the wounds threatened to re-open. The sound of metal hitting concrete caused Aidan to look up, the tip of a jagged arrow lodged in the ground. For a minute, it vibrated, the rope hooked to it bending under pressure.

The question was... who was putting pressure on it..?

A pair of steel-toed boots hit the ground, landing in a puddle of water. Aidan examined the mysterious figure, eyes trailing up to their face.

The vigilante wore a black track jacket, the silver zipper pulled up all the way to the neck. Black archery gloves covered both hands, some parts of the thick material scraped and cut. Frost grew on their cargo pants, the clothes darkening from the absorbed ice. A quiver filled with arrows was strapped to their back, and the recurve bow they held was raised, an arrow aimed right between Aidan's eyes.

Even with the domino mask this vigilante wore, and the hood over their head, Aidan knew that Star City's _**other**_ hero wouldn't fire a single shot.

"Aidan Lynch?" Deadeye lowered the bow and arrow, " **The** actual Thunder?"

Aidan rolled his eyes, his laugh filled with both nervousness and relief. "Christ, Harry, you could've killed me!" he joked as Harry helped him up, "If I knew Arrow let you leave Star City, I would've invited you down here weeks ago!"

"I was just... passing through the city," Harry lied, putting the arrow and bow back in the quiver, "Barry said you needed some help down here. He's pretty busy with a new speedster and some firestarter."

"...And who are they exactly? I'm just curious," asked Aidan.

"Sitka and Maeve. I've met the two already, and... a fire tornado is just what we need in case of an emergency," Harry said sarcastically, "At least we get to start the summer off with some _fireworks,_ am I right?"

Another horrible pun.

"So, how've you been? New fight club working out for you?" Harry questioned.

"If you're asking if I avoided Croc, then yes, it's working out pretty well for me. You should've seen the size of his fists! He destroyed Bull, too!" Aidan began rambling, "Remember Benji "Bull" Cobblepot?"

"Penguin's cousin? Aw, crap. Wait until he finds out about this..." Harry groaned, "We'd better get out of here. Gotham City's finest will be here in a minute, and Black Mask's boys are always in places like this one."

Police sirens blared from down the street.

"Come on! Get back into the hospital! They have a record of you admitted into the ER, so being absent is going to raise some red flags!" warned Harry, "Go!"

Aidan and Harry ran back into the building, climbing up the stairs to the third floor. The Police weren't far behind, the K9 unit following suit. The two hid in the room Aidan was once in, and Harry pulled the curtains in front of the glass door.

"Get the gown back on," Harry whispered, "That way they'll think you were here the whole time."

"What about you? What if they catch you? Or **worse**?" Aidan hinted at Gotham's rather _infamous_ hero, "...You're going to erase the security camera-feed, aren't you?"

Harry nodded, pulling a usb-tipped arrow from the quiver. "Malware; the data erasing version. Product of Ashxs."

"Hackers. They _always_ have the cooler names," Aidan chuckled, rolling his eyes, "Go on, dude. Do the erasing while I do the faking."

"Sparky," Harry said before leaving.

"Robin Hood Jr!" Aidan shouted back. He quickly got undressed, slipping into the hospital gown and getting onto the gurney. He shivered as the cold crept in, goosebumps forming on his skin. Looking over at the IV drip, he nearly forgot about the one important thing he was supposed to do.

The needle. **He was supposed to put it back in**.

 _5..4..3..._

He counted down as he took the needle, positioning it where it was once embedded.

 _2..1..._

"Son of a bitch!" He hissed, the sharp tip re-entering the vein. Aidan hoped the needle wasn't infected, but he already felt sick just by the sight of his own blood.

"He's in this room!"

Aidan closed his eyes, the noise of radio static soon filling his ears.

"See! I told you he was still here!" the doctor practically screamed at the officers, "Now, leave! Unless you have a warrant, I will have to escort all of you out!"

"...Fine. We'll be back to question him in the morning," grumbled one officer.

"Like I said before, no warrant, _**no questioning!**_ "

The doctor escorted the group of cops out of the room, and motioned for a nurse to go back to sedate Aidan. Feeling the fluids flow back into his blood stream, Aidan felt woozy, his eyelids becoming heavier as the time went by. Instead of his plan to wake up and leave again, he became unconscious. The nurse pulled the blanket up to Aidan's chest, and soon left, the door closing with a soft click.

 **""""""""""**

Aidan woke up to the soft and steady whirs of the machines around him, barely able to hear the tiny chirps of the birds near the window. All he wanted to do was sleep, just sleep for hours and hours. But, something forced him to become fully conscious. He was wide awake, the now-dulled pain giving him yet another headache.

"You and I need to talk."

 _That voice_ , Aidan thought, _It can't be... him... can it?_

Sitting next to Aidan's bed was a detective. He wore a light green dress shirt, his black tie hanging loosely around his neck. His black pants were wrinklesd, as if they hadn't been ironed in months. The brown dress shoes he wore were polished, however, cleaner than the shoes any other detective would usually wear. Clipped to the side of his belt was the standard MCPD badge, sunlight reflecting off the fake gold-plated metal.

"Good to see that you're alive, Aidan," said Detective Pierce, "Thanks to an anonymous dispatcher with the Gotham Police Department, I knew exactly where to find you."

"A 'good moring' would've been fine, Jefferson," Aidan groaned, "You're a cop now?"

"I've been a cop for three years now. I just haven't told you... yet," the detective sighed, "Ronald sent me to bring you home. He's worried about-"

"I'm 18! I'm about to turn 19 in a few months, and I don't need him holding me back all the time!" Aidan protested, crossing his arms, "No. I'm not going back."

"-I didn't say we were going back to Metropolis," Detective Jefferson raised his voice, "Your Dad _thinks_ that we're already heading back already. We're not."

Aidan's heart-rate went up on the monitor. "...Is there something you're not telling me?" He asked.

"My powers," the detective paused, "I'm becoming more human with each passing month. I talked to the league about it, and they've decided to have someone else take my place when I lose my powers completely. But, I think the new team needs a potential leader."

"New team-?"

"The New Young Justice," the detective interrupted, "This is a Yes or No question: Are you ready to put your life on the line for the world, Aidan?"

"Well... it's... not like I'm gonna miss the fight club..." Aidan knew he would regret this someday, but being a 'potential leader' sounded promising to him. His blood-pressure lowered, and his heart-rate soon dropped to its normal rate. "I'm ready for this, **Black Lightning**." He used the detective's old codename.

Detective Pierce nodded, scratching the stubble on his chin. "Then we've got training to do, **Bolt**."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 _ **Another chapter done, and... not exactly on time. I do apologize for that. Happy holidays and New years to everyone! I was away for a while due to work and family issues, which was why I couldn't update for a while. But, now that I am back, updates will be more frequent. I have also decided to tie in some (but not all) the events of the Arrowverse shows, and this is only to make things in this story more... interesting.**_

 _ **For those who don't know about the Arrowverse shows, there are the few main shows on the CW: The Flash, Arrow, and (upcoming) Legends of Tomorrow. I have yet to know if Supergirl is apart of the Arrowverse timeline. If you have yet to watch the shows, prepare yourself. There will be moments where you find yourself screaming and crying.**_

 _ **The next chapter will be published in a few weeks or so, and I am also considering accepting antagonists for the story. Have a good week, everyone, and try not to fight with your families in 2016.**_


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